


The Birth of a Fairy: Ficlets

by AnnieVH



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: A follow-up to "The Birth of a Fairy" where Rumpelstiltskin goes through his transformation with the help of Belle, Neal and Tink, told in ficlets and drabbles. Prompts are welcomed.





	1. The Benefits of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Because I tend to overthink things and get stuck in stories and ideas forever before I get to write them, I decided to simplify this and tell of Rumple's transformation in ficlets and drabbles and with the help of the readers. Feel free to send prompts, and I'm sorry if I still take forever to write them.
> 
>  
> 
> THIS CHAPTER:
> 
> thestraggletag: Gold is embarrassed that all he wants to do when he comes home is cuddle with Belle in the couch, eat ice-cream and watch sappy movies. Belle, however, is ecstatic.

Belle woke up to an empty bed, which was no surprise. Ever since his wings started forming, Rumple found himself unable to sleep through the night and had to pace the room several times to relieve the pressure on his back. The hot water bag that Tinker Bell recommended had worked the night before, but it seemed that solution hadn’t lasted long.

Since Rumpelstiltskin was not in their bedroom and the baby monitor remained quiet, Belle got out of bed to look for her husband. Having someone to complain to had also proved effective when trying to forget the pain.

Belle found him in their living room. He was sitting in the dark, but under the light that came from the window, Belle could see he was digging angrily into the carton of ice cream that Tinker Bell had brought him three days before.

“Rumple?”

“Don’t say anything.”

“Why are you up? Is your back bothering you?”

“Oh, no!” he said, full of irony, licking his spoon clean. “My back is _much better_. I actually thought I was going back to normal, but what do I know?”

His spoon worked with such force it was like he was trying to stab the ice cream to death.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

His answer was short and irritable in tone, “Eating ice cream.”

“Yes, I can see that, love. I meant, why are you eating ice cream in the middle of the night, in the dark?”

“Because I’ve been craving this crap since that irresponsible fairy dropped it on me without so much as a warning to what it would do to my self control.”

He filled the spoon with a generous scoop of pink ice cream and shoved it in his mouth. To Belle, it looked rather delicious, but judging by her husband’s face, he might as well be eating cardboard paper. She turned on the lights, making him close his eyes.

“And now I’m gluttonous _and_ blind.”

“You’re doing it wrong, love.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked despaired. “I know! I tried to have _just one_ bowl, but I _can’t stop eating_ -”

“No, love, I meant, you can’t have candy without a sappy novel to go with it. That always makes everything much better.”

Rumple watched her as she went through the books on the nearest shelf and selected _The Notebook_. Then, she settled by the lamp and tapped the spot next to her, signaling for him to come closer.

“But just so you know,” she said, opening the book, “you’re going to have to share the ice cream, because it looks rather good.”

“It tastes extremely artificial and extremely sweet,” he answered, pronouncing each word with great disdain.

Belle nodded. “So…”

“It’s rather good, yes. Just read.”


	2. Beautiful Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MaddieBonanaFana: prompt 1: Tink makes Rumple a colorful meal with flowers and teaches him the history of fairy cuisine.

Rumpelstiltskin knew that it wasn’t rational to blame the fairy for his sweet tooth, everything he’d read so far indicated that fairies had a love for sugary treats, but he still decided it was Tinke Bell’s fault. The moment she’d presented him with a carton of strawberry ice cream, something inside of him seemed to have awakened and now he craved sweets every other meal.

As if wings and back pain weren’t enough, now he had to worry about his waistline, how wonderful…

The moment the fairy came back, he didn’t bother greeting her and went straight to the point.

“How do I stop eating sugar?”

“And good day to you, too!” Tinker Bell said, a smile on her face as she dropped her satchel on their kitchen table. “Have you given any thought to how often you want your lessons to be? Usually, we do it on a daily basis, but I understand you have your own business and a family, so I can come by every other-”

“Nevermind that!” he cut in. “I finished that entire carton of ice cream last night, in one sitting! _And_ I had banana pancakes with chocolate syrup for breakfast.”

“Oh, that sounds delicious. You should enjoy that.”

He stared at her. “ _Enjoy_ that? My wife already has a _fairy_ _beast_ for a husband. Having an _obese fairy beast_ for a husband-”

Her tone was soothing when she said, “There’s nothing wrong with putting on a few pounds while you’re transitioning. It is perfectly normal. That sweet tooth will get under control once your body stabilizes. And you’re probably going to burn those calories once your wings are out and we start on your flying lessons.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why do I bother? Tinker Bell, listen to me. You’re not here to be my tutor. You’re supposed to help me _work around_ this.”

“Yes, I understand that-”

“Good! Then I need to work around the sugar problem.”

“Uhn…” She eyed the satchel. “I had a whole lesson on fairy history planned for today.”

“And now you’re going to have a whole lesson on fairy food improvised for right now.”

“Fine, okay, I guess I can be flexible. Oh, what a beautiful bouquet!”

She skipped to the dinning table. That was another problem he should ask her how to circumvent: his sudden interest for flowers.

“Yes, that is something else,” he said. “The smell of flowers.”

“Yes?”

“It’s affecting me.”

“Well, of course it’s affecting you! A fae’s nose is much more sensitive than that of a human to the smell of flowers and plants.”

“And how do I stop that?”

“Why do you oppose everything so fiercely? It’s not like the flowers are bothering you.”

She took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of the pansies.

“The flowers aren’t, but Belle’s father has already threatened to test my new mortality with a shotgun if I wander into his shop to sniff the merchandise a second time.”

She laughed, but it died when she found him glaring at her. “Oh! Yes, it’s a serious problem. Not funny, at all.”

“Fairy, if you’re not going to-” he started, with a thundering voice.

She interrupted him by declaring, “These are the solution to your sugar problem!” and holding up the pansies.

“Why is that?”

“Flowers are a great alternative.”

Rumpelstiltskin frowned, trying to make sense out of what she was saying. “Alternative to what?”

“To sugar. Not when it comes to sustenance, they don’t _produce_ sugar, but to us they taste just as-”

“You want me to eat the flowers?” he asked, as if the prospect of it filled him with horror.

“No! That’s insane! Just the petals.”

And to demonstrate, she plucked a petal from a pansy and put it in her mouth.

“Hmmm. They’re a little chewy, and I still think ice cream is better, but if you’re looking for low calorie alternatives-”

“I’m not eating flowers.”

“You’re gonna have to eat something, you know? And this won’t affect your waistline.”

Reluctantly, he took the petal she was offering. Caught between his thumb and index finger, it didn’t look appetizing at all.

“Shouldn’t we… cook it first?”

Her eyes began to shine.

“No-”

“Yes!”

“Whatever I said that made you start thinking, I take it back.”

“Rumpelstiltskin, you are a genius! I will teach you how to cook like a fae! This will be your lesson today. Come with me, we’re going to make you a special meal!”

Tinker Bell grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the kitchen.

Suddenly, a history lesson didn’t seem so bad after all.


	3. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple learns that fairies are allergic to pesticide, the hard way.

There were benefits to having a more sensitive sense of smell that Rumpelstiltskin hadn't thought of before. It was something so trivial it had never crossed his mind, and it didn't mean much when compared to his magic powers, but it was definitely becoming an asset. Choosing fruit and vegetables had become a lot easier since he didn't have to argue with Belle's constant, “But do you think this looks fresh _enough_? Maybe we should get _that_ one, it's more leafy.” Deciding on which baby food to buy for Gideon was also a lot less time-consuming when you could smell which ones contained real carrots and which ones were just a mash of gooey preservatives.

The flowers still bothered him, though. He hated that they could bring a stupid smile to his face without him even realizing it, and some days he had to avoid Moe's entire block not to get sidetracked by their smell. But all things considered, Tinker Bell had a point. There were worse things than a predilection for flowers. And they were delicious to eat. As long as he kept his head above his shoulders, and his new-found love for fae cuisine private, there was no reason why he couldn't take advantage of a sharpened sense of smell.

He learned exactly just how misguided his optimism had been the moment he opened the front door and something truly abhorrent found his nose. At first, he thought it was just the downside of having both a highly sensitive nose and a baby in the house, but this was not it. His senses were heightened where plants were concerned, sometimes the sweetness of processed sugar, but that was about it. Besides, he'd been around babies long enough to know what a dirty diaper smelled like and it wasn't this.

 _This_ was acid and it burned the inside of his nose when he breathed. He opened his mouth to call for Belle but his gums began to itch and his throat became immediately dry.

 _Poison_ , he thought, a long list of every vial he kept in the house going through his head.

“Belle!” he gasped, anchoring himself on the nearest wall.

“We're here, Rumple!” his wife replied, her voice cheerful, as if their entire home hadn't just become a death trap.

She was sitting in the living room, very much alive and surprisingly unaffected. Next to her, Moe French was holding on to Gideon, making him laugh. Neither man cared to give each other more than an unenthusiastic look as Rumple came up to his wife.

“Hi, sweetie,” she greeted, smiling too much and clearly oblivious to the foul smell surrounding them. “How was your day?”

“Great. Was anyone in the basement?”

“No, why-”

“Go outside.”

Belle blinked at him. Moe looked suspicious.

“Why?” she asked, her husband already heading downstairs.

“It's just for safety,” he explained, leaving things vague on purpose. Saying “One of my many vials of poison that I swore to be safe may have broken and almost killed you and the baby slowly,” would probably result in Belle ordering his entire laboratory out of the house. It had been hard enough to convince her to let him keep it.

Thankfully, the protection spells were unperturbed and every bottle was accounted for. And yet, his eyes were watering and he was barely able to breathe until he got outside.

“What happened?” Belle asked, after he had a fit of coughing.

“I thought it was poison, but it wasn't,” he explained.

Moe huffed and shook his head. “You keep poison inside your house? You have a toddler!”

He hugged Gideon tighter, as if he wanted to protect him from his own father.

“My laboratory is protected,” Rumpelstiltskin said, through gritted teeth. “And it wasn't any of mine. I just need a moment to determine the source of the smell.”

“What smell?” Moe asked.

“That acid smell?”

Rumple looked at Belle, though she was perfectly still and Moe was shaking his head. He could still feel it burning the inside of his nose. In his grandfather's arms, Gideon was turning his head from one adult to another, picking up that something was wrong but unable to understand what.

“Mah...” he whined, longing for the safety of his mother's arms.

Belle snapped out of his thoughts to pick him up, saying, “It's all fine, sweetie. Daddy just wants to make sure everyone is safe.”

“Safe from what?” Moe asked, baffled. “Everything was fine before he arrived!”

“Are you well-versed in poison, Moe?” Rumple asked, pronouncing his name with utmost content.

The other man's face twisted in anger. “I know enough not to leave it lying around, Dark One.”

Rumple tried to protest, but Belle was smart enough to step between them, saying, “Let's all take a deep breath before you upset the baby. Or me.”

Both men glared at each other, but said nothing.

“Rumple, why don't you call Tinker Bell? Dad can look after Gideon and then the three of us can work together to locate the source of the problem.”

“What do fairies know of poi-”

Belle three him a look that made him stop.

“But then again,” he said, “a fresh pair of eyes is always welcomed.”

 

*

 

It took Tinker Bell one sniff to cover her nose and fight the urge to barf. She slammed the front door close without even taking a step into the foyer.

“Oh my god, you should have called me sooner. It will take hours to get rid of the smell.”

Rumple looked at Belle. “You were right, this is a fairy problem. _Another_ fairy problem.”

“Not poison, then?” Belle asked, sighing with relief.

“Not to you, it's not. But to _us_ , it might as well be. It's pesticide.”

“We don't use pesticide,” Rumple said.

“Well, there is something _drenched_ in it inside your house,” Tink said.

Rumple rolled his shoulders. Even the slits on his back felt like they were on fire.

“Feels like my entire body is having an allergic reaction.”

“Tell me about it,” Tink agreed, scratching her naked arms. Something like a rash had begun spreading on her skin and Rumple feared he'd see something similar on the back of his hands, but at least in that aspect he seemed to be fine. Fairy or not, he'd always had a thicker skin.

“Daddy brought me gardenias earlier,” Belle said. “He doesn't use pesticide, usually, but he did mention he'd been having problems with grasshoppers.”

“I knew your father would kill me, someday,” Rumple muttered.

“He didn't kill you. You're only having an allergic reaction.”

“Yes, but lock him inside that house overnight to see what happens,” Tink told her. “Last year, Sister Silvermist used pesticide on their garden and it was chaos. Some fairies had trouble breathing, everybody was covered in hives, the inside of Blue's mouth was burned. I even saw some wings that were seriously injured- Oh!” She turned to Rumple. “You didn't eat the gardenias, did you?”

Rumple stared at her. “I may be new at this fairy thing, dearie, but I know better than to eat something that smells this foul!”

Belle rested a hand on his shoulder, as he was close to screaming at that point.

“It's fine, Rumple. I'll get rid of the flowers and everything will be fine.”

“Oh... no.”

They both looked at Tink, who was now madly scratching herself. “Just getting rid of it won't cut it. You're gonna have to bury them as far from the house as possible.”

“I can do that-”

“And then you'll have to open all windows, to fan the smell out.”

“Okay.”

“You better change the linens as well, just to be safe. And laundry anything that was out in the open.”

“Anything else?”

“You might want to just spend the night somewhere else, just to be safe.”

Belle rubbed her temples. “Fine... fine, I'll get rid of the flowers, and then I'll pack an overnight bag.”

She disappeared inside the house.

Rumple glared at Tinker Bell, who was scratching her neck.

“Explain to me again, dearie,” he snapped. “Why is it that being a fairy is considered a blessing?”

 


	4. Rash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple shows up at his son's doorstep with a fairy in tow.

 

 

“Don't say anything,” Rumple told him the moment Neal opened the door.

“Okay,” Neal agreed.

“Don't say anything, don't try to be comforting, don't tell me to look on the bright side. I just want to be left alone for the rest of the day.”

“Your request has been dully noted. Henry's room is to the right.”

His father still looked like he wanted to turn the other way and spend the night as far from other people as possible, even if that meant camping in the woods. However, the thought of a tent and no running water must have seemed very unappealing because he trudged inside Neal's apartment with a tired huff and disappeared down the corridor with his overnight bag.

“Off to a good start,” he muttered to himself, and was about to shut the door and suggest – very gently! - that they ordered a pizza, when he realized Tinker Bell was standing in the hallway.

“Oh! Tink. Hi.”

“Hey,” she said, sounding despondent for the first time in a couple of weeks.

“Sorry, didn't see you there. Come in.”

“I won't stay long. I just came to drop him off.”

“Doesn't he move around by purple cloud?”

“Yes, but, uhn...” She lowered her voice. “Belle wanted me to tell you to be extra nice to him-”

“ _I don't need him to be extra nice to me!_ ” Rumple shouted from Henry's room.

Neal sighed. “I'm in for a long night.”

“You and I both.”

“You're staying? That should make things fun.”

There wasn't much space in his apartment for a third person, but dealing with his highly emotional and perpetually grumpy dad all by himself was not something Neal was looking forward to. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time he'd shared a bed with Tink, if it came to it.

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I did offer to take him in myself, you know, so we could have a sleepover. I was going to share fairy secrets and we were going to bake cookies-”

His father's voice roared from the other room, “ _Is she_ still _here?_ ”

“Yes, _that_ was the reaction I got,” Tink said, her face clouding. “I mean, I understand that your father doesn't want to become a fairy and this is only a temporary arrangement, but this would be a _far more pleasant experience_ _if_ someone _had a better attitude about it_!”

A door was slammed in response.

Tink's face turned red.

Neal watched her closely. If she decided to kick the door down and give Rumple a piece of her mind – and he'd seen her do that to lost boys twice her size before – he wouldn't stop her. He might even record a video on his phone and show it to Belle later. Instead, she tapped her foot angrily on the floor, then said, “Am I doing this wrong?”

“No, of course not.”

“Because I was _thrilled_ when I finally got my own mentor to guide me through fairyhood. Your dad is being so...”

She waved a hand at the bedroom as she struggled for words.

“Dark?” Neal suggested.

“Yes!”

“Sounds about right. But I assure you, this has a lot more to do with who he is than your abilities as a teacher.”

Tink seemed unconvinced by his argument and Neal made a mental note to have a serious conversation with his dad. This was clearly a big deal for fairies and he'd hate to see one of his best and oldest friends heartbroken because the mighty Dark One couldn't handle change without throwing a tantrum every other day.

“Why are you in for a long night?” he asked, trying to distract her.

“I what?”

“I said I was in for a long night. You said, 'You and I both'.”

“Oh, the, uhn, pesticide, it...”

She slipped out of her sweater to show Neal the rather large weals that had appeared on both her arms. He hadn't noticed it before, but some of it had spread up the left side of her neck as well.

Neal flinched. “That looks painful.”

“More itchy than painful. I'm just glad it didn't get to my wings.”

“I've got some Claritin, if it helps.”

“It might, but I doubt it,” she sighed, nails hovering over the red skin, but refraining from scratching. “Belle said she'd look into it for me, so maybe I'll have an ointment by the end of the week.”

“Did you ask dad?”

“Doesn't look like he's in a helping mood.”

“Nonsense, it's the least he could do. Wait here.”

Tink put on her sweater again, more to keep herself from touching the rash than because she was cold, and waited as Neal went to Henry's room and knocked on the door.

His father replied with, “Go away.”

“It's me, open up.”

“I don't want to talk.”

“You don't need to talk, I just need a quick favor. Please?”

Inside the room, there was a deep sigh. A moment later, the door opened and Neal got a clear view of his father's tired face.

“What is it you want?” he asked, his voice a little softer than it would have been with someone else.

“Tink's got a rash-”

“God, she hasn't left yet?”

“Be nice. Do you have anything that could help her with that?”

“I do not.”

He tried to close the door, but Neal jammed his foot in the way.

“Dad,” he said, firmly, “don't be difficult. She got hurt trying to help you.”

Rumple growled, stubbornly.

“You know it's not her fault that you're-”

“But she doesn't have to look so happy all the damn time.”

“This is a big deal for fairies.”

“I picked up on that.”

“Maybe if you were a little more receptive-”

“Baelfire,” his father snapped, making him go quiet, “my entire biology is changing to accommodate magic that I barely understand, I'm growing wings, and I'm an emotional wreck. I'm sorry that I can't be _cheerful_ about it.”

“I don't want you to be cheer- Okay.” Neal took a deep breath. “Okay, let's not do this now. Will you maybe consider helping her as payment?”

“Payment?” Rumple repeated, baffled by the suggestion. “Payment for _what_?”

“Lessons in fairyhood, for starters. And for helping you out today. And for her discretion-”

“Fine!”

He snapped his fingers and produced a small flask with a purple liquid inside.

“I don't know if this will work, but it's the best I have. Apply twice a day and don't bother me again if it doesn't help.”

“Thank you, papa,” Neal said, sweetly. “You can go back to being lonely and cranky.”

“ _Good.”_

When Neal came back to the living room, Tink had given up her self-control and was scratching her nail along the sleeve of her sweater, hissing her teeth.

“I have no idea what this is,” he said. “But dad said it's the best he has, so...”

Her face brightened up immediately. “My savior! This will be perfect.”

“Not a savior,” Neal said, her words making his cheeks go warm, “but... it's nice to be appreciated.”

Tink took the flask and said, “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. Putting up with him can't be easy-”

“ _Your walls are thin, Baelfire!_ ”

Neal looked over his shoulder and shuddered. Tink giggled for the first time since she'd arrived at his apartment. He turned to her and asked, “Is it too late to go home with you?”

 


End file.
